


Damien's Last

by a_nonny_moose



Series: Who Killed Markiplier Relevant [5]
Category: Markiplier Egos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_nonny_moose/pseuds/a_nonny_moose
Summary: Prompted by an ask from rosiered194 via tumblr: Yo isn't it fun that Damiens final moments alive would've been him absolutely terrified as he he's trapped in a tiny room with a possessed version of his sister (and her probably killing him)?





	Damien's Last

Damien’s last moments weren’t spent with his back to the wall, pleading. 

“Celine, this isn’t you.” 

“Please, stop this.”

“Look at me. It’s me, Damien, your brother.”

“Celine– oh, god, no.”

The last thing he saw wasn’t the face of someone he’s known since childhood, laughing, smoke swirling around her face. Blood, and he choked on it, and it got all over Celine’s pretty mourning dress. The darkness closed in, and he heard Celine scream, too.

No, Damien’s last moments alive, his last moments of consciousness, weren’t spent in the Seer’s room, struggling to choose whether or not to fight back.

Because even after the world went black, Damien woke up. 

He woke up in a void, Celine reaching for him, apologizing. “It wasn’t me, it was an accident.”

“I know, I know,” and he reached for her, but found that he couldn’t move his own body, control his own words. 

His body straightened itself, a sneer painting itself across his face. Flickers of blue, sapphire, in the corners of his vision. There was a puppeteer pulling at strings, and Damien was only a puppet.

And Damien could only watch, a voiceless scream, as what was left of him nodded to Celine, ringed in amber and flickering flame. She held power here, more control, but was as voiceless as he was. 

He could only watch, struggling against the strings, as what was left of him handed out empty promises. Straight-backed, a pose that befitted a Mayor, and Celine with hands outstretched. 

Damien was ripped back into consciousness, as if watching a movie from a far-away hallway. The man in the mirror (god, it looked like him) leaned his head to one side, then the other.

A third person, like a shadow, slipped away.

You have to consider that Damien’s last moments alive and free weren’t spent fighting, pleading with his sister– what was left of her, anyway– not to kill him. 

Free? Damien’s last moments free were spent laughing, a keg stand with old friends, free only until Mark’s spirit found it’s way to his body.

Alive? Damien’s still alive. Somewhere… in there. And he still fights. 

And that’s why Dark is only ever red and blue, and never a shade of purple.


End file.
